


pyrite

by bonebo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Feminization, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 21:18:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12873234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo
Summary: He’s always been Sojiro’s favourite--ever since he was old enough to be taught and trained how best to serve his father, his oyabun--and he’s seen the jealousy in Hanzo’s gaze, heard the contempt in his voice when he talks about just how spoiled Genji is: Genji always gets to stay out late, Genji has all his bills paid for him, Genji gets the newest electronics, Genji never gets scolded.And Genji would trade it all away in a heartbeat to be like Hanzo.





	pyrite

He’s always been Sojiro’s favourite--ever since he was old enough to be taught and trained how best to serve his father, his oyabun--and he’s seen the jealousy in Hanzo’s gaze, heard the contempt in his voice when he talks about just how spoiled Genji is: Genji always gets to stay out late, Genji has all his bills paid for him, Genji gets the newest electronics, Genji never gets scolded.

And Genji would trade it all away in a heartbeat to be like Hanzo.

He feels hollow as he walks the empty corridor leading up to his father’s office, his socked feet silent in the quiet of the evening. It’s late; no one else should be around, and yet Genji still can’t help how humiliated he feels, clad in the pink floral kimono that his mother always loved. The fabric is thin, luxuriously silky and soft, and Genji hates it almost as much as he hates what it always brings.

He knocks twice at Sojiro’s office door, and doesn’t bother to wait for his father’s permission before he comes in. With the door quietly shut behind him Genji glances up and finds Sojiro sitting at his desk, slouched back in his chair with his glasses perched on his nose and a pen in hand.

“Sparrow,” he greets--like he’s surprised to see him, like he didn’t arrange this meeting himself. Genji is no stranger to his lovers acting in bed to stroke his ego, but this mockery of innocence makes his blood boil. “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“I couldn’t sleep, papa.” The words are coppery on his tongue, bitter as pith; all rehearsed through the years. Genji is certain he could recite them in his sleep, and sometimes he fears he does. He takes an uncertain step forward, hands clasped in front of him--actively working to keep up the persona his father demands, despite how it makes his stomach roil. 

“You couldn’t sleep?” Sojiro rolls the chair back a little and pats his lap. “Come here, dear sparrow. Do you want papa’s attention?”

Genji nods because he can’t force the words out, and he climbs up into Sojiro’s lap, sitting with his back to Sojiro’s chest and his legs bracketed outside his father’s. He follows the guiding push of Sojiro’s broad, calloused hands and lays back, tipping his head back against Sojiro’s shoulder and staring blankly up at the ceiling, only half listening as Sojiro starts to talk. 

“My baby boy,” he murmurs, his hands pulling aside the fold of the kimono and starting to explore the expanse of milky flesh beneath, running his fingertips over the soft planes of Genji’s chest and wrapping an arm tightly around his waist when he starts to squirm. His fingers find Genji’s nipple and squeeze, twist and pluck the little bud of flesh just to watch the shivers that race down Genji’s spine. “So pretty, just like your mother...papa’s gonna help you sleep. You just need a little loving, isn’t that right? Some attention to help you settle down. And papa has plenty of that to give you…”

He trails off on a hungry purr, his hand roaming lower to gently press between Genji’s thighs. His fingertips trail over the soft, flaccid length of Genji’s cock, petting it with a coo of, “Aw...my little sparrow, are you shy? You don’t need to be nervous, sweetheart. Let papa take care of you.”

His fingers close around Genji’s cock and Genji has to bite at his bottom lip to keep his cry of discomfort silenced at the too-tight grip, the sharp prick of his father’s manicured nails against his skin. He endures the handjob for as long as he can manage, reluctant to follow through with their play and recite his next lines; but the friction burns, the callouses scrape.

And he’s always been weak.

“Papa,” he whines, trying to press his thighs together despite the strong muscle of Sojiro’s own keeping him spread. “Papa, I...I need more…”

The words are like ash on his tongue, and Sojiro’s purr in his ear is victorious.

“Shh, sparrow,” he breathes, pushing Genji to his feet before he, too, stands; his hands are quick, precise, as he strips the kimono off Genji’s shoulders, hungry and possessive as they roam across the lean muscle of Genji’s back, dig into the plush curves of his ass and hips. “Papa knows what you need, pretty boy.”

He pushes Genji to lay over the desk, one broad hand clasped at the back of his neck, and Genji closes his eyes as he hears the clink of Sojiro’s belt, the rustle of his pants falling. The first touch of Sojiro’s thumb to his hole--already slick and stretched, prepared earlier in the quiet of his bedroom--has him flinching, and he braces his arms on the desk, dropping his head against them with a quiet whine.

Sojiro always gets impatient, when he’s so close to what he wants; uses his thumb to dip in and toy with Genji’s hole a few times before he lines his cock up, eager to sink inside. The first thrust seats his cock all the way up to the base--and Genji always forgets how wide his father’s cock is, always forgets how much it hurts when he starts. He bites his lip and shifts his weight a little, lifting one leg up onto the desk to hopefully ease some of the pain as Sojiro starts to settle into a quick rhythm of rabbit-fucking him, his balls slapping against the soft skin of Genji’s ass with every thrust. 

“Stop squirming, Genji,” Sojiro huffs, grabbing at Genji’s hip and digging his nails into the supple meat there to hold his youngest still as he rolls his hips forward. “You take my cock just as well as she did...so eager for it. So hungry.” 

Genji can’t reply--each of Sojiro’s thrusts forces the breath from his lungs, leaves him helplessly gasping. He buries his face in the cradle of his forearms and tries to hang on, even with every thrust that sends him rocking forward on the desk, each slap of Sojiro’s hips that rubs his soft cock against the desk’s edge. The only blessing to it is that, when he’s already worked up like this, Sojiro’s completion usually comes relatively quick; Genji only has to endure a few more minutes of the punishing fucking before Sojiro is crowding over him and digging his nails in hard, gasping out a moan against Genji’s ear as he fills him up with seed.

“That’s right,” Sojiro breathes, pulling his cock free and watching the way Genji’s abused hole twitches; he grabs one of Genji’s plush cheeks and pulls it aside, just to admire the creamy, soft gape hidden between, made puffy and red by the rough fucking. “Good boy.” 

He slaps his free hand down onto the other side of Genji’s supple ass just to see how the worked-slack hole tries to tighten up, to keep the frothy load of cum inside. “Don’t let any of it come out. Be good for me, like your mother was.”

He leans down to press a kiss against the sweat-damp valley of Genji’s trembling shoulderblades, and by the time Genji’s managed to straighten up on his shaking legs Sojiro is sinking back into his chair, his pants fixed and his fingers combing through his hair to work the slicked-back bangs back into place. He smiles serenely up at Genji as he hands him back his mother’s kimono.

“Go to bed, sweetheart,” Sojiro purrs, waving his hand to shoo Genji away--now that he’s sated, now that he’s had his fun. “Papa will see you in the morning.”

Genji pulls the kimono on and staggers from the room, moving as fast as he can with the pain that his lower body is in; and he gives himself credit, tells himself he’s strong, for making it all the way back to his bedroom before the tears come.


End file.
